


Mediocre at Best

by PastelMess



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 2011ish, Early Days, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tyler is frustrated about everything, Van Days, rab era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelMess/pseuds/PastelMess
Summary: Rising to the top isn't as easy as it looks, especially when no one wants to watch your band.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flightlessnerds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlessnerds/gifts).



> I read all of Dreamers at Best in one day and felt inspired to write this. Please read it. It's life changing.

Tyler knew how lucky he was. Very few people got to live out their dreams, and the fact that he was able to play music and travel the country with his  _ best friend _ was the greatest thing in the entire world. The band was still in its prime, and not many people outside of Ohio were coming to their shows, but progress was progress, especially after Tyler lost two members. He had been so lucky Josh was so willing to drop everything to help him out. And as bad as it sounded, Tyler enjoyed playing with Josh more than he ever had with Nick and Chris. Josh’s passion for music came out in his drumming, drumming so powerful it sent shivers to the deepest parts of Tyler’s soul. Everything about Josh, from his dark curly hair to his crinkly smile, was perfect. Tyler didn’t think he had ever come across someone who shined as bright as Joshua Dun.

Which was the exact reason why Tyler still couldn’t believe the two of them were dating. The fact that he not only got to see Josh every day but hold his hand  _ and  _ kiss him, was ethereal. Josh always knew what to say, what to do, when things went wrong. And lately, a lot of things had been going wrong.

When the two had sat down with Mark and Michael to discuss going on a tour outside of Columbus, they had known from the start that there weren’t going to be a ton of people coming out to see them. They knew they’d be playing to a lot of empty bars with maybe three or four sober people. Despite knowing all of this, Tyler still got his hopes up. How could he not? They were visiting cities he had never been to before, playing to people who would see them, maybe even hear of them, for the first time. They were only visiting six cities total, but Tyler was certain only one or two would be complete failures. If Josh and him were loud enough, crazy enough, and distracting enough to make the attendees turn around, even if it was only a glimpse for a couple of seconds, the show would be a success.

Unfortunately, they were three shows in and not finding much success at all. The bars they were playing at had no more than fourteen, fifteen people a piece, and about half of them were drunk out of their minds. The others were too distracted with conversations to be bothered to turn their head towards Tyler pouring his heart out through music. The first show, Tyler kept his chin up. He had expected it, and it pushed him to perform harder the next time. They needed to be louder, they needed something that would make them stand out from every other low grade band. Problem was, Tyler had no clue what to do.

Des Moines is the worst of the first three, definitely. The bar only has a solid ten people in it, including the staff, and none of them are paying any attention to the band. Tyler shoots Josh a nervous glance as he scrolls through the backing tracks on his laptop and clears his throat. “Okay, uhm, this next song is a newer one. It’s called Slowtown.” No one looks over at them. Tyler glances back over at Josh, who flashes a supportive smile and gives a thumbs up.

He has no clue why he suddenly feels so sick. The microphone shakes in his hands as he starts up the tracks and heads to his piano. When Tyler looks around the room, no one looks back.  _ You knew it’d be like this. You knew. _

He had known, and that didn’t make anything feel better.

They finish the set off a little rocky, and it’s one wrong note that finally catches the attention of a small group of guys. They look at Tyler strangely as he excuses himself and ignores the blush on his cheeks. Michael and Mark help clear the stage and take their equipment back to the trailer while Tyler hides away in the green room.

Even the term “green room” doesn’t seem to fit; it’s a room the size of a broom closet, with a small fold out table covered in a few water bottles. Tyler downs half a bottle, wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and sighs loudly, letting his body slump against the wall. He’s so  _ tired. _

The rest of the guys are ready to go when Tyler drags himself out to the van. Mark grins and reaches out to pat Tyler on the back, who ducks out of the way of his hand and tosses himself onto the mattress into the back seat. He curls into a ball and pulls a blanket tight around himself.

“Tyler?” Mark says softly, questioningly, but he doesn’t push it. Tyler obviously doesn’t feel like talking.

Michael is driving, Mark is in the passenger seat, and Tyler can barely make out a conversation Josh is having with the two of them up in the middle seat. His throat burns like he’s about to cry and he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s not going to cry. He’s not going to cry.

“Alright, move over,” Josh’s voice is muffled by the blanket pulled taut over Tyler’s head and he whines a little when it’s ripped off of him. He’s cold only for a second before Josh’s warm arms pull Tyler close to his chest and tuck the blanket around their tangled limbs. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m tired,” Tyler whispers. “No, I’m  _ exhausted.” _

Josh sighs. It’s not a degrading sigh, no, it’s more like a soft breath, an “I understand” kind of thing. Tyler presses his nose into the crook of Josh’s neck and breathes him in. There wasn’t a shower back at the venue, so Josh still smells like sweat, mixed in with the remains of his deodorant and cologne. Tyler has always been a sucker for smells, and it’s so  _ Josh _ that he sort of forgets where he is.

“I feel that man,” Josh runs his calloused fingers through Tyler’s hair, and chuckles a little when Tyler groans with satisfaction. “All of this, it’s a little overwhelming.”

He moves his head down to rest it on Josh’s chest. “I tried so hard to be optimistic Josh, but I’m starting to crash.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“No one is watching,” Tyler feels like a rubberband someone has stretched to its breaking point, just ready to snap, “us, I mean. I try so hard to get them to turn around, to listen to what I have to say, I’m screaming, I’m screaming to a fucking-” he stops himself short and rubs at his face. Tyler never curses. It makes him feel dirty. “Sorry. Empty sky, that’s what I mean. That’s what it feels like. I just, I want one person to turn around, to pay attention to us, to ask me, ‘hey, how’d you write that song?’ Or I don’t know, maybe buy a demo or something. I’m just, I’m frustrated. All of this seems so pointless. We’re so far from home, playing crappy gigs for a measly sixty bucks a pop, to have no one pay attention to us. Maybe we never get out of Columbus, you know? I just, I wish we were back there with the people who actually like us. The people that  _ choose _ to come see us, not because they have to at a bar somewhere. I just wish we could get to the good stuff.”

“Tyler.” Josh’s hand runs through his hair again and shifts to the side of his face. Tyler hums. “You know every band goes through this.”

“Why’d you join me anyways? You were traveling across the country, across the  _ world _ even, for a band far more popular than Twenty One Pilots-”

“That was never a permanent gig, you knew that. House of Heroes was a passing phase. Besides, I could never see myself doing anything else besides playing music with you. Dude, you are so important to me. You’re my best friend. You’re my  _ boyfriend. _ And I love you.”

Tyler snorts. He moves again, this time so he can look Josh in the eyes. He wishes he had the words to describe what Josh’s eyes were to him. They were unworldly, they were rain on a warm summer’s day, the feeling of sand between toes, of the colour blue and the sound of wind chimes. Josh’s eyes were Tyler’s  _ everything. _

Josh reaches out to wrap his hand around Tyler’s jaw and gently pulls him forward just enough for their lips to brush. Tyler moans softly as Josh deepens the kiss, his hands finding way to ball up in his hoodie. They kiss leisurely for a good five minutes before Josh pulls away breathlessly, a small smile on his face.

“I’m no poet,” he starts, leaning over to push a clump of sweaty hair off Tyler’s forehead, “and I’m definitely not a songwriter, but you mean the world to me Ty. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. I, I’d compare thee to a summer’s day.”

“Pretty sure that line has been taken by someone else,” replies Tyler teasingly. He loses himself in his thoughts staring at Josh’s face. “Thank you for making me feel better.”

“I didn’t do much,” Josh admits. “Just know that one day, you and I, we’re going to be selling out arenas. People are going to love you, and the ones ignoring you right now don’t know what they’re missing. Music, it’s a way to express to people that you get them, that you understand. It’s been like that since the beginning, whether we’re talking about jazz in the twenties, or country in the thirties, or rock and roll in the fifties. I honestly don’t know how to describe your music so I’m not going to try. Just know that there is a group of people out there that need to hear what you have to say. One day, your voice, your music, your words, are going to change their lives.”

“For someone who’s not a poet, that’s pretty inspiring,” Tyler tells him. He leans back in to kiss Josh, pushing harder this time, until Josh rolls on top of him. He’s in love. He’s so bloody in love that it hurts, but it’s the good kind of hurt, one that reminds you that you are  _ alive,  _ and living around people that love and care about you.

Tyler knows Josh is right. One day, people are going to turn around and say, “Who are those guys?”

And until that day came, Tyler was going to work his hardest.


End file.
